middleofsomewhere | So Familiar a Gleam: Finale

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So Familiar a Gleam: Finale

YOU R̴̨̬̗̞̺̖̣̱͌̋̅͊͒̃͘Ų̴̨̨̦͎̭̥̰͍̞͙̲̰̞̭̎̆̓͂́͒̑͌̆̉̕͝Î̶̲͖͙͍̮̮̯̭͘͝N̵̡̢̢̛̛͔̳̲͚̙͕̘̠̞̈͊̂̋̆ͅÉ̸͖̟̻̯̪̭͉̭͖̱̙̠̺͎̥̿D̸̥́͒̈́̔̓̅̋͛̉̀͒̇̚̚ MY WORLD

A TL;DR notes version of days/prompts: (click to show)

EVENT BASICS:

DAYS 8-9 (M11-M12):

Buildings had begun to disappear during days 7&8, facilities and even whole streets begin vanishing. There are signs of crumbling infrastructure everywhere they look.
In the early morning of Day 9 (M12), the cracks in the city - in this illusionary world - finally spread. The void sky above shines brightly in its colours. Chaos - also referred to as the Entity, or That Guy - is heard screaming of vengeance against the Voidtreckers, blaming all that has happened onto them. It shows what happened to the original Diagad: It was destroyed by blocky shapes in the sky that came down and destroyed it, while Chaos itself fell into the void.

There is also some light mind torture, as a treat, to really wake people up. Memories, visions of their past assail them. This is the sort of stuff the voidtreckers have been training against and it's a good time for them to put all that work to the test.
Anan's group then takes over any electrical device still left. She explains that they have a way to get the non voidtreckers (4th wall characters and npcs) home and also a way to temporarily seal the world. The entity takes offence at this and the screens smash. The entity appears as a cyclone of crackling colourful energy.
Illusionary creatures are sent around to find and attack Voidtreckers, but they're also going after 4th wallers/NPCS. There's also monsters from other worlds leaking through, real monsters. People will have to move around more carefully, as going out on the streets is dangerous.
However, there's word that buildings are disintegrating/disappearing farther out from the centre sector. People see where the city limits are as the illusion of there being more to the city has completely faded.
Their SCA's begin to work fully, including comms. Of course not everyone was wearing their SCA when they got pulled and the 4th wallers don't have one so it will be up to those who do to make sure everyone is kept in the loop.
The main tasks are as follows.

"YOU. YOU WISH TO RUIN MY WORLD. TO TEAR IT ASUNDER, BREAK AND CRUMBLE AND INCINERATE ITS EXISTENCE AGAIN. AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. I WATCHED IT. THE END OF DIAGAD, PURPLE SKIES, THE CHILDREN WHO LAUGHED IN JOY, THE SMILES I BROUGHT TO LIFE. THE REASON I WORKED AND WOKE AND WHAT KEPT ME GOING EACH AND EVERY DAY. MY EXISTENCE. MY BEING.

FALLING. FALLING. FALLING. I FELL AS IT CAME, BLACK TERROR WITH A HUNGER. HOW DID THE CHILDREN CRY? DID THEY SUFFER? I CAN HEAR THEM ALL, I CAN IMAGINE THEM. SEE IT. THE POSSIBILITIES, THE MAYBES, THE TRUTH. THE WORLD-- MY BEAUTIFUL DIAGAD, OH! THE VOID HAS BLESSED AND CURSED AND DAMNED AND DESTROYED AND BROUGHT TO ME A CHANCE TO SAVE IT THIS TIME, I WILL SAVE DIAGAD, I WILL HEAR THE CHILDREN LAUGH AGAIN, NO ONE WILL DESTROY MY CITY AGAIN. NO ONE, NO THING, IT WILL BE BEAUTIFUL AND SAVED AND IT WILL PROSPER FOREVER.

ALL WHO HARM US! ALL WHO STOP OUR RETURN! I WILL FIX WHAT HAS BEEN BROKEN. NEVER AGAIN SHALL YOU YOU VOIDTRECKERS HARM MY WORLD AGAIN. TWISTING AND RUINING OUR HOME NO MORE NO MORE I WILL END YOU."

The spiel comes in the early morning of Merriment 12, their ninth day on this strange world, though morning and night are indistinguishable now with the void-scarred sky burning above Jinnjar. Little exists of the sectors but the education and political district, and everyone has had to take shelter in its buildings, on cold tiled floors and with few blankets. There is no waking comfortable, feeling at ease. The city continues to crumble, and the citizens turned into the Entity's Heroes never quit their search and harassing of people who may be secret Voidtreckers, regardless of the ruinous world around them.

And then it speaks. The Entity's voices wakes everyone, enters into dreams, reality and the fake undefinable between one another. Scenes switch from one to another. A sky. Purple, serene and calm. A feeling of great contentment. But then come the shadows. Dark clouds filling the sky, blotting out that most perfect sky. A scream. No, a thousand screams. A world of screams echoes in every ear. A shadowed figure falling into the void. Pain erupts through the body, the mind, madness and grief suffocating every sense, every fibre of the being, and more attempts to fill and drown each and every person in Diagad. There is grief, there is love, there is despair. A longing and desperation that can never be fulfilled that cries out.

Once it's over, many have collapsed from the experience, and there are screams of those scared for their lives. Go out into the streets if you haven't already, and you will see the streets breaking, buildings being pulled like cubes, splitting people and trapping them. And there is a surge that hits people - Voidtreckers, others - with a brainwashing that makes them think of only one thing:

NO MORE. END. WE WILL END THE VOIDTRECKERS.

In amongst all of this chaos screens switch on. Any screens left working in buildings, on buildings, peoples phones. All show a young woman, a droid sat on her hair, metal legs curled around her head.

"Malin?"

A woman's voice. "Yes, go Anan. Now."

"LISTEN UP!" Anan isn't as loud as the booming voice echoing through the city, but she makes herself clear. "We need to evacuate and seal this world. It is falling apart." Stating the obvious, perhaps.

"We can temporarily seal it and we think there is a way to get the others back to their worlds. I know you Voidtreckers have had no training and this is advanced and really dangerous but everyone who is not a void traveller is in a lot of danger."

In truth, even the void travellers were in danger, but she doesn't want morale to be too low.

"Anyone willing to help meet me in the big park. You'll know it, it's the only park left!"

'HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU THWART ME. NO. NO. YOU DON'T. THIS IS MY CITY. MINE NOT YOURS. NOT YOURS TO DESTROY.' There's a huge crack as the sky itself seems to crack apart as colours twist and turn, a cyclone that forms at the edgez of the city, slowly beginning to devour it.

Over the camera Anan looks visibly shocked, terrified even, lost for words. An older man with reddish greying hair steps towards her, putting a big hand on her shoulder.

"Focus Anan. Voidtreckers. We do not ask it lightly. Please those that can, fight. Buy us time to set the seals. Buy time for those with no void craft to evacuate."

The screens flicker in colour before it cracks into static.

'NONE OF YOU WILL SURVIVE.'

A DISJOINTED REALITY

[ FALLING CITY. ] The city has been torn apart, fragments of roads, buildings and structures floating in a horrible mess. Friends and comrades split apart, some trapped in rooms that once had exits, or with no way out than to fall to nowhere. Pieces may stitch back together again at random, but with the same unpredictably, tear apart.

And if it couldn't get any worse, those core lights buzz around the environment, searching for individuals. They will do anything to hinder our heroes: turn into monsters from their minds, attempt to encase them inside illusions of their fears; even try to make them see pathways that don't exist, to make them fall into nothingness.

But for those who honed their resistances against illusions, this time may be different from the last. And with some experimenting, or just some lucky wishful thinking at the right time - some will find they can bend the illusions to do as they want, if just for a while. Stitch back together pathways so they can be crossed over, or make a weapon appear where it's needed.

It requires concentration, will be exhausting with too much use, but still - when isn't an axe or road on call handy?

[ HINDRANCE OR HELP. ] But it isn't only the core lights and environment they need to worry about. There are monsters coming out of the void - monsters they may recognise, monsters they may not. But unlike those of illusions, these are real, monsters - mechanical, ghostly, flesh and blood, something else entirely - slipping through from other worlds to rampage here.

There are also civilians, those who remain brainwashed, going after the Voidtreckers with powers of their own: telekinesis, pyromancy, superstrength and endurance, and so forth. Their skill levels vary, but the strongest of all are those who features have become twisted, chaotic. Streaks of colours dance under the skin, and they listen to no reason but their own. The entity - no their god, Chaos, is remaking the world. Remaking it the way it should have always been.

Strangely, but luckily, not everyone is harmful. Amongst those out there are a peculiar sight: a short hybrid between child and woodland-creature. They're keen to help, particularly anyone young or good of heart. They will help to lead them to safe shelters - the safe-houses made by Voidtreckers, the protected rooms all that are left. They may even interrupt the core lights from harming youngsters, knocking and shattering them, and then staying close to the youngster.

[ THE EVACUATION. ] For those who manage to make their way to the park, Anan is there, looking grim. One good thing though, as voidtreckers rush towards the entity or get ready to protect those helping evacuate this world- those with SCA's will see them burst into life, comms online.

The evacuation area needs protecting. Those acting as beacons aren't able to fight for themselves and the evacuation process is intense, slow and there are many many people in this city. The main entity is distracted but the monsters are drawn towards this gathering of people. Holding them back is vital to this plan working.

It's going to take everything the voidtreckers and their new friends have, to pull this plan off.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That's the kind of direct and unequivocal answer Devero can appreciate at a time like this. He spins and charges after Genjo, senses on as high an alert as they can be given that he's just got himself right now.

(If he weren't so focused, he'd probably be feeling vulnerable and self-conscious to be charging into a fight with just his wetware and a fucking sword. Luckily for him, he literally can't spare the energy to worry about that.)

They follow the screams off the road and down an alley-- an alley which ends abruptly in another one of those fissures, as if someone had brought a giant knife down through the middle of this city block. In this case, though, the other half didn't fall apart, only away, dropped down about fifteen feet and back about six. From where they stand, they can see directly across into the second and third floors of the buildings flanking the alley on the other side of the fissure, rooms gaping open where the two halves separated.

Long-armed, large-clawed monsters are spawning somewhere below and crawling up from beneath the split city block, dragging themselves into open rooms with their draconic jaws parted in hungry, vicious smiles.

Devero takes in the tableau, his knuckles white around the sword's hilt. This-- this is way beyond his ability as a fighter, even after all he's been through over the past few months. He looks almost helplessly over at Genjo, but his voice is at least steady as he asks, "--Where do we start?"

It's way beyond just Sanzo's little five-shot revolver and martial arts skills, too. Unlike his master, he can't throw fire and lightning around even if he chanted for it first. He doesn't know how.

So in response, Sanzo sticks his gun back up his sleeve and then puts his hands together, palm to palm in front of his chest.

And he begins to chant. Rapid-fire, the cadence way faster than it would be for a ceremony. What is he doing? About ten seconds into it, there's an answer; the Maten sutra on his shoulders ripples in a wind that isn't there.

Of course, the stirring of such a potent magical artifact isn't going to go unnoticed by the enemy, either. Some of them notice. A few start to split off and charge over, intent obvious -- stop that shit.

It takes Devero a couple of seconds to figure out what Genjo's doing, mostly because he's not used to chanting preceding magic. Sure, academically he knows that most of the magic-users in Koumyou's world need to chant mudras to cast their spells, but he's only ever actually seem Koumyou fight.

But he gets it, and when he gets it, he falls almost gratefully into a familiar role: defend.

Before he can start that, though, he's going to have to risk making Genjo really mad: he shoulders the priest bodily back from the lip of the cloven alley as he's starting to chant, and puts out a hand. "Give me your gun," he demands.

Sanzo does indeed give him a look, not pausing his rapid-fire chant. Not to tell Devero off, and not to argue, either. He's pretty easy to shoulder around, he doesn't weigh any more than his father; might even weigh less.

Look, he's been in enough shitty situations -- this is a Tuesday, after all. It would be counter productive to interrupt what he's doing to throw a fit.

So even though it doesn't do the focus he's building any favors, he drops one hand from the prayer pose and flicks the gun out of his sleeve with a snap of his wrist, and shoves it at Devero. Don't blow your own ass up, big guy.

Devero takes it with one hand and salutes Genjo with the other, before turning back to the mouth of the alley. He settles into a easy firing stance, swings the gun up to sight at the monsters massing on the other side of the gap, and pulls the trigger--

Nothing happens.

"Are you shitting me right now?" he starts to say, but doesn't get much further than 'are you' before the first monster gathers itself and leaps across the gap. It hits severed pavement at chest height, but its long arms are more than strong enough for it to dig in and heave itself the rest of the way up.

Devero backpedals and tries again, swearing when the gun again fails to go off. The monster actually laughs at him, a sibilant and malicious sound, before reaching out with a long arm to swat him into the wall. Helpless harmless human with his little useless gun can be dispatched later; the creature turns its attention to the actual threat: the chanting priest.

It drops to all fours and stalks forward with a leonine grace. Still hissing out its delighted laughter, it crouches to spring-- and that helpless little human it's already dismissed grabs it around the ankle.

It swings its long head back, fur bristling up along its spine with disbelieving affront. Devero lifts the revolver with his free hand and sights it right in the face. "Fuck you," he tells it, and pulls the trigger.

And this time he's actually cocked the hammer back first.

It takes considerable willpower for Sanzo to not stop chanting to make a shitty comment. Considerable. Maybe even more than the will he's bringing to bear on one-fifth of that which created the universe.

But he doesn't stop and make a comment. He just keeps on chanting, staying right where he is. If the monster springs at him, it's going to find out the hard way that he can still move while doing this, and Sanzo is pretty sure those too-long arms will still break if he applies pressure to the back of the elbow and hauls back on the wrist--

But Devero's got it handled, it turns out. Good. The gun's familiar retort cracks through the air, the sound echoing hard off the alleyway walls, and that gets more monsters' attention.

Just in time for--

"--Om mani padme hum--!" Sanzo's voice is louder for this bit, even more forceful that usual before he screams-- "Makai, tenjou!"

And then the only noise is howling beasts and rustling paper, countless tendrils suddenly filling the air, sliding past Devero without quite touching him.

Koumyou's sutra is light and energy and heat, and when it isn't a blinding white but has any glow to it at all, it's always a brilliant gold like the very stars it had been used to create. The Maten is a different beast altogether. The light from it is almost incomprehensibly, violently violet, like the multiverse's strongest UV black-light.

It's not an absence of light (and energy, and life, and existence), like the terrifying Muten that Ukoku wields, but it's different.

The Seiten creates light, but the Maten banishes the dark.

When the countless tendrils stab through or slice or even smash against any of the creatures, they disintegrate. The reach of Sanzo's control is just long enough to go up into the sliced building and kill the beasts before they can start eating people.

One moment Devero is surrounded by the sensory crush of combat: the screaming of the trapped civilians, the hideous animal noises of the monsters, the scent of blood and sight of gore and weight of the dead creature fallen on top of him. He struggles under it, heart pounding with battle adrenaline, everything underlaid by the sound of Koumyou's bass-voiced son's chanting.

The next moment, Devero is surrounded by a sensory crush of a very different kind: the pure, primal magic of a founding sutra of heaven and earth, unleashed.

He's afraid of Koumyou's Seiten sutra. The power it oozes is comprehensible to his brain: heat, light. Atomic forces, nuclear fusion, the burning eternal lifestuff of the universe itself. He can't help but flinch from even the small, controlled glimpses of it he's seen, aware in the most primitive parts of his brain that a flicker of this power could incinerate him with the same elemental mindlessness of a wildfire or a lightning strike.

He expects the reflexive terror he feels for Koumyou's sutra to seize him the same way, as Maten's banishing power surrounds him.

The body on top of him dissolves away, but he's not afraid. Eyes open, he's able to watch the sheer release of the magic as it annihilates the shrieking monsters, but he's not afraid. As the power fades and the sutra returns to being just an artifact draped across Genjo's thin shoulders, he's not afraid.

Is it because he's seen it in action before, an illusory copy wielded by Koumyou to dispel that hideous vision that had caught them both in the deserts outside Kamakan?

(Or is it perhaps because that same little animal part of his brain that recognizes the indifferent searing brilliance of the Seiten recognizes also that he has nothing to fear from a power that banishes darkness?)

In that moment, he doesn't know why he's not afraid-- and he doesn't really have time to think on it, or be anything more than grateful. He heaves himself to his feet, his rattled bones creaking in protest, and puts fist to palm in front of his heart, and bows to the Sanzo priest.

Sanzo, of course, takes this gesture with a smug look and a wordless 'Hn!', and then holds out a bony hand clad in that familiar black arm-warmer.

"Gun." And also, "We need to get these idiots out of here."

Which at least means he's planning to help with that.

Devero hands it over, pausing for a second to raise an eyebrow before he deposits the little revolver in Genjo's hand. "It's not their fault they're trapped here," he says pointedly, before turning to eye the building himself.

The far side has drifted a little farther in the space of the 'fight'-- it's moving slowly but perceptibly away. He grimaces. "Sure could use a couple of beetles right now," he mutters to himself, but there's no time to waste lingering on that thought, now is there? He eyes Genjo again and opens his mouth to ask him if to use the Maten to anchor the two pieces of reality together--

Then closes it. Koumyou's effortless use of the Seiten is something else Devero takes for granted, but he knows by now that Genjo's ability with the Maten is... stunted. Is that something he'd be able to do, like Devero's sure Koumyou would? Is it worth wasting the seconds to ask?

"Let's get over there, then," he says instead, and takes off for the end of the alley at a run.

It's true, Sanzo only knows how to do one thing with the sutra. He does it quite well, but it's still just... the one thing. Sharak could do a lot more with the Kouten, but still had to chant like Sanzo. Ukoku didn't even have to chant to use the Muten. And Koumyou put them all to shame, when he was alive...

"They're breathing, aren't they? So they're idiots."

You're all idiots. He's also an idiot, but he won't admit that bluntly. If Devero picks it up in subtext, that's just fine! And if he doesn't... well, not all idiots are created equal.

And off he goes! Sanzo charges after him, of course, vanishing the gun back up his sleeve as they go.

Edited 2021-07-27 00:48 (UTC)

If Devero takes offense to that-- and he does!-- he keeps it to himself. He focuses on the 'end' of the alley, on planting his feet just right for the soaring jump across nothingness to the other side of the block.

He's judged it just right, outstretched hands catching a pipe exposed from the space between levels to interrupt and redirect his momentum. He swings himself into the room below, hitting the floor with enough control to tuck and roll to absorb the rest of his momentum. Unfortunately, he did not have enough to aim, so he slams into a couch after a couple of tumbles.

Fucking ow. He's just going to. Stay here for a minute. Don't mind him.

Yep. Not all idiots are created equal.

Sanzo... slides to a stop at the edge of the gap, eyeballing things a little more closely, squinting dubiously.

And... yes, yes, he snorts with amusement at Devero's rough landing.

"Oi!" Sanzo shouts up at the people higher up in the building who have been watching this from the edges of the severed section. "Get moving! I'm not sticking around forever!"

They better have stairs, or a fire escape, or... sheets to tie together. Something. He can't just jump up there like the rest of his group could have.

Definitely not. Some of them are able to make a jump like the one Dev just made, and some of them aren't.

Shitty landing aside.

He's still in the process of untangling himself when feet appear in his vision, the resident of this particular unit coming to hesitantly offer a hand. He lets them pull him to his feet with a grunt of thanks, both of them looking up at Sanzo as he bellows across the gap.

Devero speaks quietly to the resident for a moment, who nods and darts away, then cups his mouth and yells from the open edge, "What are you thinking, evacuate them over the gap? Or should we get you over here and try to find another way back to the park?"

Sanzo can smell the bullshit, though.

"I could still shoot you from here, asshole."

"Maybe, but then you'd have to get all these folks moving on your own," Devero fires back without missing a beat. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "I can fuck off if you want that though!"

"Then do it, I'm busy."

It wouldn't be Genjo Sanzo's first time herding a group of civilians by himself, and it wouldn't be the last. Not that he thinks Devero is serious anyway, but it wouldn't change his reply even if he did.

Fucker.

Sanzo has already turned his attention to the rest of the building, eyeballing it from this vantage point to get an idea of the layout. They don't have a lot of buildings in Shangri-La that are more than two stories tall, but he's getting the general idea.

...And he's spotted some thick wiring that doesn't seem to be sparking, so he's just gonna grab that shit and swing on over the gap on it. And briefly into the building, and back out, and back in... as soon as the momentum isn't too bad, he starts climbing up the length of the cabling, hand-over-hand.

Sanzo grabs the sliced edge of flooring and hauls himself right up into the building with a grunt.

Two stories higher than Devero's current location.

It's almost like he's used to keeping up with super-powered youkai assholes or something.

Yeah, he's not actually going anywhere. And yeah, his ego does deflate a little bit, seeing Genjo make the crossing easily enough himself, if with somewhat more effort than Devero needed.

Now's not the time for a dick-measuring competition with Koumyou's son, though, not really. He turns away into the building to start the process of evacuation.

In this, at least, they get lucky. All of the stairwells remain intact, and there are only a handful of people on this side of the building. A couple of those on the far side make it over before the two pieces have drifted too far apart; the rest communicate that they'll find their own way.

Devero and Genjo end up with 9 intact but shaken civilians to herd to the park. Devero addresses the group, letting them know that he and Sanzo are going to take them somewhere safe from the dissolution of the city, somewhere they'll be protected.

"Even from the Voidtreckers?" one of them calls out uncertainly. They glance at Sanzo. "Can you do that-- purple thing to them, too?"

"If I feel like it," Sanzo confirms, and yes, he's looking right at Devero when he says it.

No particular reason.

Back to the civilians, "And anyway, it's better than staying here. So let's go."

These people aren't reading like part of the illusion to him, so getting them out of here is the priority. Whether his words get them to move, or Devero has to do more reassuring first, once they're in motion the priest falls into an easy, watchful position as they go.

He's used to ambushes.

Which is good, because they don't get more than a couple blocks before he suddenly stops in his tracks, cursing. "All of you, into this gas station, now!"

Anyone who lingers is going to notice the growing shadows, hear the growling and the scrape of claws. Maybe they won't linger any further. Sanzo pulls his gun free of his sleeve, and moves to guard the door.

Really? Devero mouths at him, only just managing not to throw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

The group is not hard to chivvy along after that reassurance. Devero takes point even as Sanzo falls back to guard, the civilians strung out between them. He goes slowly, trying to find a way that leads generally back in the direction of the park while avoiding the worst of the ruptures in reality.

When he hears Sanzo's warning, he doesn't hesitate, immediately pivoting to herd the group into said gas station. A couple of them protest, or freeze to look around and ask what's happening, but he's more than big enough to compel them to move with a push and a firm word. "Take cover and stay down!" he orders once everyone's inside, the authority in his voice enough that they obey.

Once he's sure they're secure, he joins Sanzo at the door. "What did you see-- oh."

"There's a lot of them. And they're not distracted, this time."

Translation: Devero alone is not going to be able to hold them off long enough for Sanzo to use the sutra again. And, frankly-- "Using the sutra probably attracted most of them. It does that. If I fire it again, we'll have half the city on us."

Hadn't been a ton of options earlier, though. They hadn't even had all the civilians gathered in a defensible space like they do now. Sanzo checks his revolver. "You better with the sword or with a gun?"

This might be a last stand, better make it count.

Edited 2021-07-27 03:27 (UTC)

"Rust and ruin," he swears softly, watching the shadows starting to coalesce into the sharp, gangly silhouettes of those same monsters.

He inhales deeply, crushing down the gibbering fear that wants to gather under his breastbone. "Gun," he says hoarsely. "And you'd better show me how to reload the damn thing."

Sanzo does, quickly. One slide, pressed by the thumb, hinges the revolver's spinning chamber open. A tip back drops the spent casings from it, and then he slips the bullets in one by one, quickly and with steady hands. He's had years and years of practice in situations not unlike this one.

A flick of the wrist has it snap shut, and he shoves it at Devero. "Here," And a fist full of loose bullets. "Give me the sword, stay between me and the others."

He can give Devero reloading time, but only if Sanzo's between Dev and the monsters.

"And don't fucking shoot me."

That's what passes for humor from this particular Sanzo priest. Enjoy.

"If I do, it'll be on purpose," Devero says with gallows humor of his own. He pockets the spare ammo and hands off Koumyou's katana to Sanzo.

"If any of you have defensive abilities, get ready to use them," he tells the sheltering civilians, flipping the barrel of the revolver in and out as he does. "But hold them until these things are in the building here with us-- you're screwed if you take me or him out by accident." A jerk of his thumb at Sanzo.

They might be screwed anyway; sure, he's tethered to the train, but no one else here is-- including his partner's son. He's trying not to think too hard about that.

He returns to the door once he has their nervous murmurs of understanding. Now there's nothing to do but practice the reload and wait for the first rush.

"Dickhead," is Sanzo's reply, and is that... that's a smile! Well, a smirk. Whatever.

He can smell Devero's fear on him, so he adds as he pull the katana from its scabbard, "This is still a fucking Tuesday. At least these assholes don't talk."

It's a small silver lining, not hearing 'Sanzo! Hand over the sutra or die!' for fucking once. But they'll either live through it or they won't, and he plans to give the enemy hell either way.

Which... yes. Is a very normal day for him. It's there in his easy body-language as he gives the sword a testing whirl, and then the enemy rushes in.

Devero manages a snort of laughter. It's... actually a little reassuring, Sanzo's reminder that he's in the company of someone who has to fight against pretty much his entire world all the time. Sanzo's more suited to this than he is by far.

Not that there's long to ruminate on that. The monsters attack, and then there's only room in his head for the cycle of aim, fire, reload.

He's not the preternatural shot that Sanzo is, but he has been practicing his marksmanship since ordering his P-18 for the train. Between that, the sheer crush of monsters, and the fact that the holy pistol packs a hell of a punch, he's able to provide Sanzo with solid cover even if the bullets only strike a limb or graze past their target.

But though they're not talking, these fuckers are canny. They learn the pattern real quick, beginning to draw back to the cover of shadows and street debris when Devero has the pistol loaded and then rushing to overwhelm Sanzo as soon as that fifth shot discharges. He reloads as quick as he can with fingers that are at least steady, but he knows he's slow. He's too damn slow, and there are a lot of monsters out there, and the number of bullets in his pocket is chillingly finite.

It's probably for the best that there's no time to think; he can barely spare a though towards how long they'll be able to hold out.

So Familiar a Gleam: Finale

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